The Littlest Things
by TamperedTemporaryBliss
Summary: Little things alter us. We meet new people, and others fade. Each person gives a little, and takes a little…sometimes, they take a lot... But it was always the littlest things that really mattered. Like the little things she did, the little things she remembered. We were meant to be strangers, but for a while, the littlest things made us more than that...
1. Prologue

_New year, new start, new story :) _

_Hello, my darling readers! I'm back with weekly updates! This year is a super busy year for me, but I'll hopefully always be around and always find time to put you guys first:)_

_The story is AU and **endgame!** and the inspiration came mainly from three places: a Japanese manga, a Korean movie, and a Taiwanese TV drama. I'll dedicate a chapter to the first person who guesses the name of any one of these three inspirations correctly! So... three people will have a chance to get a chapter dedication :)_

_I know this isn't the happiest prologue. But it's the start of something new... so this prologue is for QuinntanaEverAfter, who stuck with me through thick and thin, kept me entertained when I was bored, gave the greatest bear hugs and the best ideas, and made sure I got back on my feet every time I fell down. You made this story possible. You're the absolute best._

_My dear darlings, keep me going for this story, yeah? Shower me with a little love~?_

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><p><em>Little things alter us.<em>

_We meet new people,_

_and others fade._

_Each person gives a little,_

_and takes a little…_

_—sometimes, they take a lot…_

_But it was always the littlest things that really mattered._

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

_Quinn's POV_

I've always wondered what it would be like to be with a girl. Would she be gentle? Tender, perhaps. I always thought she'd kiss me gently on the lips, taking her sweet time, caressing every inch of skin on my body and setting me on fire. Maybe she'd kiss me on the neck, trail her way downwards… Maybe she'd show me a night of ecstasy, one I'd never forget.

_Forbidden pleasure._

And perhaps after all of that, she'd hold me in her arms, just for one night, and she'd make me feel safe, secure, almost like I belonged to someone.

And that was all that I could think of on the plane back from Los Angeles. It's funny that this thought never once crossed my mind during my three days of escape, and instead, should only appear when I was but hours away from reality.

But that's why, when I saw her at the baggage claim, at 2:07am, I knew I had to do something. It was one of those once-in-a-lifetime moments, where seeing a stranger made your heart skip a beat—and you don't quite understand why—and you felt connected simply because they _smiled_ at you. And then you smiled back.

But I didn't. I didn't take the chance. What was I meant to do? Walk up and tell that goddess I was _mildly _attracted to her, and that maybe… maybe we could go do something daring? No part of me dared to do that. Besides, every part of me told me that it was wrong. It was against all the morals I had been taught as a child, against every noble value I knew.

Then again, wasn't my entire life?

As I pulled my black suitcase from the conveyor belt, I turned, hoping to catch one last glimpse of her. But she was gone.

Feeling weary already, I dragged the suitcase along the lighted hallways. I have half a night more to live, less than 6 hours before before I resume my duties, and pick up my life once more.

The light vibration in my purse makes me stop my steps, the sound of my ballet flats on the tiled floor coming to a halt. Unknown caller. On any normal night I wouldn't have picked up. But tonight was the last night for me to be me, and so, well, why not? I'd already missed the one that would have made the greatest impact on my life anyway. Wouldn't hurt to pick up a stranger's call once in a while.

"Hello?"

_"Uh… Is this Lucy Q. Fabray?"_

I'm hesitant, and yet nonetheless find this somewhat thrilling. They say mystery never fails to enthral. The stranger's voice is musical, "Yes…"

_"Hi, this is Santana. I believe we might have swapped our luggage?"_

"Hm?" I look down at the black suitcase, surprised to find my usual luggage tag gone. So maybe we really did switch. "Oh, whoops. Sorry… I think so…"

_"Are you still at the airport?"_

"Yeah. Are you? Wanna meet up and swap back?" It was a daring request on my behalf, really. I never meet up with strangers like this. Strangers are dangerous.

But I want my luggage back, and even on a night so special, it's more important than my caution towards strangers.

_"Yeah. You know the coffee shop in the Arrival Hall?"_

"The one by the corner?"

_ "Yea, I'm there already… Can you come?"_

"Alright. Be there in five." I pick up my steps again, heading straight for the exit.

I wonder what woman would be waiting for me at the coffee shop. She sounds young, energetic. Perhaps she'd be blonde, brunette… Is she tall or short? Perhaps she was an aspiring writer. Or maybe someone famous. Maybe she'd have the best fashion sense ever, so great that even Kurt's fabulous jaw would drop open. Or perhaps she was uptight, followed every rule by the book. Judgemental. Hurtful.

A hypocrite.

I turn the corner near the coffee shop and realize it is near empty at this unorthodox hour of the night, and there are only three people sitting at the tables. One is a middle aged man, squinting into a newspaper article. One is an old woman, praying silently, yet with her lips moving, her fingers gently swiping along her rosary beads. The last… A young woman, with gorgeous flowing black hair, a flaming red cocktail dress, reading a book as she stirs her coffee.

She looks up just as I approach her table. I stop dead in my tracks.

_It's her._

"Hi, is it Lucy?" She smiles at me, that same smile she offered at the baggage claim, "I believe we've met before?"

I smile softly, trying to hide my shock, "I saw you at the baggage claim?"

"I smiled at you, didn't I? And you smiled back!" _I did?_ She grins at me, and I catch a childlike fire in her eyes. It surprises me that she should remember a plain girl like me from one look at the baggage claim. "So charmed by my smile that you took my luggage instead, mm?"

"No… Of course not" I mutter, my brows knitting together as I bite my lip. Am I easy to read, or is she just a tease? "I should… get going…"

"Got someone waiting for you at home?" She ventures, slipping a thin bookmark between the pages and setting the book aside.

"Not… exactly…" I force a small smile, "But it's late."

"Or early, depends on how you see it. Two sides to every story." She brushes her hair from her face, resting her elbow on the small table and her head on her hand. She studies me for about a full minute,"Hey, let's go for a drink."

"I… I don't drink…"

"Nonsense, I saw you drink that cocktail on the plane," Santana laughs softly, standing up. "I don't think I've introduced myself properly. I'm Santana Lopez," she holds out her hand, expecting me to take it. I do, in a somewhat weak handshake, quickly pulling my hand away.

"Lucy Fabray." Somehow I feel shy around her.

"Come with me? I'll get you home before sunrise, princess?" The way she's so airy, so carefree, so limitless… she's almost the opposite of me.

Everything in her screams freedom.

I want it.

"I'll come," I murmur, taking my own luggage this time as she stuffs the novel into her handbag, slinging it over her shoulder, "But none of that princess stuff." The clicking of her heels lead the way out of the airport, and I follow behind.

And just like that, I found myself at a hotel. It wasn't cheap, one of those road-side ones that you see people going in and out at all times of the night. It was a nice one, grand, with soft beds, nice wines.

Santana took me into a room, and it looked perfect. The lighting was soft and mild, the carpeted floor soft, the view overlooking the city almost breathtaking. But it was only when she pressed her body against mine, trapping me against the wall that I noticed from the corner of my eye that the room held only one bed.

"Would you mind?" she whispers into the shell of my ear, sending a flood of foreign emotions coursing through my veins.

Life had given me a second chance, and this time, I was more than ready to take it. I didn't struggle in her hold. Finding no words on my tongue, I simply nodded.

And seeing this, Santana wasted no time in leading me to the bed. She was gentle. In the dim lights of the room, she kissed my wrist gently, watching my every emotion.

More than once, I saw passion in her eyes. She helped me lie down, made me relax as she kissed softly along my neck, my breath hitching at every new sensation. I closed my eyes and I remember my mind being cleared of worry, cleared of reality the moment her lips touched my bare breasts. I don't quite remember when or how she had undressed me, but when I opened my eyes again, I was in nothing but panties, and she was wearing only a bra and a thong.

And never did I think she could have looked more beautiful. Nor did I ever dare imagine that I should feel as though I was treasured, so loved.

She didn't beat me. She didn't hurt me or force me into anything I didn't want. She took her time, making sure I felt comfortable as she moved closer.

And it was on a night like that, under the dim lights and on the soft mattress, that I was taught to let myself go. It was on a night like that, with tender touches and sweet nothings, that I let her unravel me. It was on a night like that, that I experienced such ecstasy that nothing, no one had ever offered me, that I experienced such love, security, belonging.

She didn't rush into anything, and it was so much more than I ever could have imagined.

And with Santana, I felt an intimacy I never felt before.

Pity. Waking up in her arms, the room still smelling faintly of sex, I realized I was living a dream. I realized it wasn't going to last.

Why?

Because our worlds were simply too different. We couldn't possibly exist in the same world.

It was all meant to be a one time thing. We were never supposed to meet again.

We parted as strangers.


	2. Chapter 1

_So... I decided to post a litttttle bit earlier this week, just because I'm in need of any encouragement I can get right now, and I thought maybe some of your guys' reviews and stuff could cheer me up (cuz they always do haha~)_

_But before you go on to read this chapter, I have two things to say:_

_First, yes, I know I'm taking a rather wild spin on this fic, and there are a ton of unanswered questions that will keep popping up. Don't worry, they'll be answered in due time. I introduce a new and rather prominent character in this chapter, and I fully understand that a fic with OCs isn't something that's necessarily everybody's cup of tea, so do feel free to ditch this story at any time (although I sincerely hope you won't)._

_Second, I've mentioned this before, and I'm honestly getting tired of mentioning it, but well, it reallllllly bothers me, so here goes :)_

_**NOTE:** Criticism, especially constructive criticism, helps us are all entitled to having differing views from me, and even though I may not agree with what you have to say, I will defend your right to say it. Apart from that, I, as an author, would love to improve. So if you have something you want to say about my stories, my writing style, or anything else, bring it on! You can contact me through ff, tumblr, twitter, and/or via email. All I ask is that you leave **a way of contact**, whether through an ff account, or anything else. After all, it is through discussion and communication that we will best understand each other, and grow in different ways! **Have the courage to speak up! Better yet, have the courage to own up to what you brought up! :)**_

_Anyway, show me a little love and maybe leave a review? I hope you enjoy this!_

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

_Quinn's POV_

"Quinnnnnnnn. You're so slowwwww. I'm turning into a fossil sitting here by the doorrrr."

"I'm almost ready, Lissa. Do you remember what I said about whining?"

"Yes, I know. Quinn says whining makes me a negative people, and I don't want to be one because it's no good."

"A negative person, darling. And _you_ are good, but being negative doesn't."

"I shouldn't act like a negative person," she repeats. There's silence for a few moments before a little huff sounds from the door, and without looking, I just _know_ she's crossed her arms together again, trying to give me the scary-Quinn-look. I smile inwardly at the thought. "If we don't leave within a minute, I'll be late for the first day in this new kindergarten, and it'll be your fault!"

"Nonsense. It's less than a ten minute walk, and there's fifteen minutes till your first day starts." I arrange the last piece of carrot in the small container before fastening the lid into place, "Don't you want a top-notch Quinn-lunch today?"

"Yes, but you're taking too long."

"Why don't you go feed Mr. Goldfish, Lissa?"

"Done ten minutes ago."

"So early?"

"Mhmm. Are you done yet?" Her eyes light up as I turn around, her carefully packed lunch in my hand. Melissa jumps to her feet, grinning from ear to ear, taking the container into her hands and then putting it into her own little backpack.

"Alright, mini-me," I smile, slipping on a pair of ballet flats and grabbing the keys from the countertop, "Ready to go?" Lissa grabs my hand before I can even offer it to her, "I've been ready for ages!" Her eyes gleam with childish excitement.

"Wait! Do you need to use the bathroom?"

"Did that before I fed Mr. Goldfish!"

"Do you have everything you need? Snack? Water? Where's your cardigan?"

"We packed my backpack together last night, remember?"

"Right. Alright, big girl, let's go!"

With a twist of doorknob, we're out the door of our small apartment.

"Let's take the stairs," Lissa announces just before I press the button for the elevator, "Two floors. Exercise."

"Are you sure you're not too tired for the stairs? You're up earlier than usual, little girl."

"I'm very super awake today, Quinn!"

"The stairs then," I let her lead me down the stairs, holding her hand tightly as we descend to make sure she doesn't go too fast and trip. And then I basically let Melissa pull me all the way to kindergarten as well, because she's walking so fast that I'm the one having trouble keeping up.

She hums some little tune I make out to be a crossover between "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" and "Old MacDonald". Working on mashups already? At such a young age? Melissa definitely makes me proud.

"We won't be late, you know. Hold my hand and wait, Lissa, there are a lot of cars" I tighten my grip on her hand as we wait for the crossing guards to signal our turn to cross. As soon as they do, she starts tugging me ahead, and I try to slow her bouncing self a tad bit down.

"I know we won't be late," she replies simply, "but I wanna be the most early student today."

"Why do you want to be the earliest student?" I smile as I look down at her.

I'm not quite sure if she hears me anyway, because she suddenly stops in her tracks. Her eyes shimmer as they grow wider with her smile. I look up, trying to see what she's looking at. Well, it's hard to miss.

We're here, steps away from the kindergarten. Today, there's a bright colored banner hanging across the front gate. "Lissa—"

Without warning, she wriggles her hand out of mine, and makes a dash for the kindergarten. I try to follow suit, but in her excitement, she's a little too fast for the sleepless me.

"Melissa Fabray, get back here!"

—

_Santana's POV_

Mornings are not, have never been, and never will be my specialty. Standing under a huge banner that reads 'WELCOME TO THE FIRST DAY OF KINDERGARTEN:)', with a huge smile plastered on my face, my voice enthusiastic as I greet the incoming children and parents, there's a little bit inside of me I probably left at home in bed. It's not that I don't like my job as a kindergarten teacher, it's just that I simply don't like mornings.

And to top it off, it's the first day of this school year, too! It's the day when young kids like the ones streaming in are super excited to go to school, and most parents are equally excited to get their kid in school. Summer's tolling if you have a five-year-old drawing on your walls with crayons or pulling your cat's tail. And of course, excitement makes everything more hectic than it's meant to be.

A small tug at the hem of my shirt makes me look down. "Yes, dear? Hello, what's your name? I'm Tannie." I crouch down so I'm eye-level with the young girl. I've never seen her around before… so I'll assume it's her first day here today.

She's a pretty little girl. Her golden curls and hazel eyes look strangely familiar. She's dressed in a simple little pink dress, looking absolutely adorable. There's even an air of elegance around her that reminds me of… _her. _Her, again. Why do I keep thinking about her? She was a one-night-stand, someone I'll never meet again, someone I'll never see again… Shit. I'll never see her again.

"Melissa," she answers in a childish yet almost matter-of-fact sort of tone, snapping me out of my thoughts, "Quinn says this will be my new kindergarten."

"Really? That's so cool!" I smile at her, digging into my pocket for a lollipop and holding it out to her, "Want one?"

"No, thank you. I had some candy this morning at home, and too much makes your teeth go bad. Maybe later this afternoon, though."

"Oh?" This kid's got wit, if nothing else. I bet she's got the brains, too. "Well, where's… Quinn?"

"Probably almost here." She looks back over her shoulder, "Quinn's slow."

"Yeah?"

A set of hurried footsteps grow louder on the pavement, and then a pair of ballet flats come to a stop beside Melissa. As Melissa turns to hug her mother, I stand up, ready for yet another, "hello, how are you, your daughter's beautiful, class is this way."

I pull the classic greeting, a wide smile, hand up and ready for some shaking. "Good morning, are you Quinn?"

Wow.

_It's her._

"Hi…" She doesn't look at me, but simply puts a hand on Melissa's head, smoothing out her hair.

"Hi…" A slow wave of shock washes over me as I eye her down. Her hair is done up into a loose bun, and she wears a simple blue sundress with white flats. She barely has any make up on. And she still looks beautiful. But there's a different air about her. She looks… motherly.

Motherly?!

"I… um…"

"If it's okay, I'd like to take her inside first." Her voice is so monotonous that I daresay we've never met, that she's another person, another mother tired and drained. But there's something about the way she looks at me that tells me it is her. And she's a mother. What the…

"Of course! But… do come out after? I think… We…"

"Yeah, okay." She hurries Melissa into the school grounds, never giving a backwards glance. I can hear a gentle but firm stream of chastising coming from Lucy (or is it Quinn?), something about Melissa not running off like that again.

This is absolutely insane. It can't be true. There's no way that she's here, much less that her kid is in the kindergarten I teach it. Why does she have a kid anyway? Was the kid… the one waiting for her at home? So she's married? Oh god, what have I done.

"Santana?" A hand rests on my shoulder and I jump what feels like sixteen feet into the air.

"Holy shit! Hi!"

"…Hi…"

"Um…" All of a sudden, I'm reduced into a giddy mess, like some dopey high-schooler who had just met their crush. Oh, what the fuck.

"I, uh…" Her eyes are downcast, and she stares at her feet, her hands clasped together in a tight hold. So maybe I'm not the only one nervous. Or awkward. Or both.

"Nice to meet you again," I offer a tiny smile and hold my hand out to her. She hesitates for a moment before taking it in her own hand and giving me a firm but short shake.

"You, too." The corner of her lips seem to tug at her for a smile, but she keeps a straight face. "Sorry I was so curt earlier. I didn't want Melissa to know about… um… and… she just… picks up on things rather quickly."

I nod, still somewhat dumbfound, "I… Please don't think I'm someone who sleeps around… I promise you I'm not like that. Your daughter is safe in my hands." Way to go, Santana, your conversation skills are about as good as a dying opossum's.

"I never…" her face contorts as she chokes back a giggle. So she is capable of emotion, "I came to ask you to not think of me as an incompetent mother who hooks up all the time… That was… actually, that was the first time I ever…"

Woah. _Woah._ First time ever…? She was a virgin? I took her…. Oh, hell to the no what about the kid? She means first ever one night stand Must be.

"I promise my priority is always Melissa. And I trust what you said about her being safe," she pauses for a moment, "You're gentle."

There's a brief silence between the two of us as we both look everywhere but at each other in embarrassment as her last two words slowly seep in. Well…?

The bell rings somewhere behind us. Perfect timing. Saved by the bell.

"I… I have to go."

"Oh! O-of course!"

"I'll see you when you pick her up after school?" I offer a warm smile and a small wave before turning on my heels to head into the building.

"Yeah… Oh, and—" She grabs my hand abruptly , and the feeling shoots through me like an electric shock. She pulls her hand back equally as suddenly, but the tingling lingers, "You can call me Quinn, by the way. That's the name I go by with people I know." She lets out the sweetest and most dazzling smile I've seen all this morning. I'm standing there, paralyzed.

Quinn turns without another word, and makes her way along the sidewalk, away from the school.

Ripped out of my trance with the sound of the second bell, I make my way through the playground and into the kindergarten in a soft jog. The hallways are silent, with the children already sorted into rooms. I count three doors down on the left till I come to a yellow one. One twist of the doorknob, one crack of the door, and sound _erupts_ everywhere.

"Santana! There you are!" A voice rings clear amidst the crowd of children sprawled all over the place. I can't even see my two co-teachers in the mess.

A small wooden block rolls to my feet, before the tip of a paper airplane hits me right in the head. I almost need someone to remind me why I signed up for this job. I could have signed up for almost anything else, and yet I ended up choosing this. Why…

"Alright, quiet down!" Before it leaves me, my voice feels drowned by the shouting, screaming, and crying in the room. This isn't going to go very well, is it? I sigh, putting two fingers up to my lips and blowing long and hard, sounding a sharp whistle.

The room goes completely silent. Someone breaks into wails and tears.

"Good morning, big kids. Please find the seat with your name tag on it! I know everyone is very excited, but we must still be on our best behavior, alright?"

There's a brief period of noise, with chairs dragging and feet pattering along the floor, but there's no chaos. Once everyone is somewhat comfortably settled, I begin to write "Tannie" on the whiteboard, followed by "Sunny" and "Joe".

"Good morning!" I sound as cheery as possible, despite feeling utterly drained already from being in class for ten minutes.

The children, which number only fifteen, despite the noise and chaos that ensued, echo back a "good morning" in relative unison. Sunshine stands on the side of the room, by the door, and Joe is somewhere at the back, a crying boy in his lap.

Pointing to my name on the board, I flash a quick smile, "My name is Tannie, and I will be one of your teachers. Who can spell out my name?" About four hands shoot up eagerly, and I pick the little boy in the back, in Joe's lap.

"T-A-N-N-I-E!" he sniffs. I offer an encouraging smile, "Can you catch the candy that I'm gonna toss at you?"

"Yes!" A small grin appears on his face as I pull a wrapped candy from my pocket and toss it in his direction. He catches it with perfect precision.

"Alright, who knows the name of this lady beside me is?" I motion for Sunshine to come stand beside me.

"Sunny!" A girl in the front beams, eyes expectantly glowing. I toss a piece of candy in her direction as she proceeds to spell the name.

"Very good. From now on, everybody raise their hands and wait for me to pick you before telling the answer to the class, alright? So, who's the man in the back?"

Almost everybody's hand flies up, and I choose the one I saw first.

"Joe!" The girl says excitedly before spelling his name, and I toss another piece of candy in her direction.

I retire to the side of the room as Sunshine takes her own lanyard from the nearby desk and puts it around her neck, "See this? This is my name-tag. All of you have name-tags, too, but they're a bit different than mine. Can we all clip our name-tags on? And then we can go around saying our names so we can get to know each other better? Shall we start in the front and go around?"

The children take turns saying their names, and though I have a smile plastered on my face, and my gaze follows the voice of each child speaking, my mind is elsewhere, revisiting this morning's events.

"My name is Melissa Fabray."

Wait, what? I find myself looking at "Melissa" from this morning, only to find her looking back at me with a somewhat questioning gaze. Can she tell I wasn't paying attention?

Apparently everyone is done with their names, because Sunshine then starts to move everybody into a circle on the carpet at the back of the room for a story. Thinking that now would be a good time to actually give myself some time to think about Quinn, I lean back into the wall, halfheartedly listening to Sunshine flip the pages.

A tug at the hem of my shirt makes me look downwards again. Oh. "Hey, pal, what's up?"

Melissa offers a smile that mirrors the one Quinn left me with this morning, "I need the restroom. The big one in the hall, please?"

"Alright, I'll take you," I hold out my hand to her, and she takes it willingly. The moment we're into the desolate hallways, she speaks up.

"What's your real name?"

"Hm? Tannie?"

"I know that's not your real name. It's like how Quinn calls me "Lissa" but my real name is Melissa."

"Alright, my name is Santana."

"Santana…" She let's the name roll off her tongue for a moment, before beginning another question, "Do you know Quinn?" It's a little strange hearing her refer to Quinn as "Quinn" and not "Mommy" or "Mama" or some other form of that.

"Yeah, I met her this morning," I smile. What else can I say? I fucked Quinn last week, I'm sorry?

"Quinn doesn't act like that with strangers."

"Yeah? Maybe she was just tired today."

"I saw you out of the window this morning. What were you two talking for? Me?"

"Do you mean talking about?" Why is the bathroom so far away. "We were talking a little about you," I manage to murmur, "Quinn wanted to make sure I'd take good care of you."

"She worries too much," Melissa takes her hand out of mine and folds her arms across her chest as she walks, "It's bad for her."

I can't help but laugh a little at the statement. Melissa is undoubtedly one of the most mature kindergarteners I've ever met.

Suddenly, she's right in front of me. "Do you like Quinn?"

I come to a stuttering halt. "W-what?"

"Oh, here's the bathroom," she says as if nothing had just happened, and whirls around, skipping into the bathroom.

What… just happened. Did I really just get interrogated by a five-year-old about liking her mother? She can tell?!

"I'm ready to go back," her voice barely reaches my ears as she takes my hand in hers and begins to lead me back to the classroom.

"Wait, did you wash your hands?"

"Yeah, and I hummed "Happy Birthday" while scrubbing my hands with soap because Quinn says that's how long you need to scrub to be clean."

"Oh? You're a smart girl, aren't you?"

"Of course! Quinn's the most smart, though. Wait. Smartest. Quinn's smartest." She smiles to herself at her own correction. I remain silent, unsure of what to say, though I find Melissa a little cute. "So, do you like Quinn?"

Is she just embarrassingly relentless or what? "Quinn's nice."

"She's busy a lot, though." She puts her hand on the door as I push it open, as though she's the one opening it. "If I decide I like you by the end of the day, I'll tell you a secret."

And before I can say another word, she's skipped over and retaken her position on the carpet.

If Quinn's daughter is this witty and smart, then Quinn may be someone to match my own wit. She really is interesting… and mysterious. Definitely mysterious.

I let the day drone on through arts and crafts, songs, lunch, nap time, and more stories. I'm eager for the day to end, simply because I want to see Quinn again. The more I think about her, the more she interests me.

One question continuously rolls around in my head, plaguing my every thought.

Who is she?

Okay, she's the stranger on the plane, the stranger I had a one-night-stand with… the stranger I met again, and maybe not so much of a stranger anymore… she's the busy mother of Melissa… but what else? Who is _she_? What kind of past has she had? And… speaking of Melissa, why does Melissa call her "Quinn"?

I realize I want to know her. Not just facts about her, or her… well, her body. I want to know _her._

The bell rings, signalling the end of the day.

As parents file in to collect their children, Sunshine, Joe, and I stand near the door, giving high-fives before the children leave, bubbling over with news about their first day.

Within five minutes, only two children are left—Melissa, and another girl who is clinging to Sunshine. Joe is picking up toys in a corner.

"Hey," I decide to take a seat next to Melissa, who has her nose buried in a picture book. She looks up at me and cocks her head. "Yeah?"

"Have you decided?"

"Decided what?"

"If you like me enough to tell me a secret?"

"Oh, yeah!" She quickly returns the book to the shelf, before deciding to climb on my lap. "I do. And here's the secret." She leans up, her mouth beside my ear. She cups her hands around her mouth and whispers, "I know why Quinn is late to pick me up. She's probably at home sleeping still."

"That's the secret?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Yep," she nods in a business-like manner, like she's just told me some secret that could potentially blow up the world, "she's always busy, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," I smile softly as I run a hand through her hair. What did I expect her to tell me anyway?

"Lissa?"

"Quinn!" Melissa bounces right off my lap and into Quinn's arms. Quinn and I lock eyes for a moment, before she picks Melissa up and kisses her softly on the cheek.

"I have to talk to Santana for a moment. Can you go do something else first?"

"Only if you promise spaghetti and meatballs for dinner."

"Oh, alright, but only if you promise to help me dry the dishes!"

"Deal!" And in another whirlwind, Melissa's back to the bookshelf.

Getting up, and dusting myself off, I make my way towards Quinn. She's changed dresses, and she looks gorgeous. "Hey there!"

"Hi," she offers a tight smile as she looks over my shoulder at Melissa, "has she given you any trouble today?"

"Not at all," I shrug. There is absolutely no way I am telling her about my interrogation by a five-year-old.

"Good. I was worried she'd be quite a handful… since she's so curious and a little talkative."

"Smart and witty, too," I smile, "Bet she takes after you."

Quinn blushes softly at the compliment, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Oh hey… I hope you won't mind this but… Melissa mentioned that you're often busy. Just… if you need help or anything, let me know, okay? I'll try my best!" Grabbing the nearest stack of post-its, I take my pen from my pocket and write my number out, handing it to her.

Quinn cocks her head to the side, before hesitantly taking it in her hand, "Thanks. I think we'll be okay, though."

"On the other hand, if you're free… Maybe we could go out for coffee some time?" _Wow, Santana. So you're here at kindergarten picking up your student's mothers now?! Way to go._

Quinn smiles, as if she can read my thoughts, "Maybe." She glances at the clock hanging on the wall, "We have to go. Maybe we can talk another time?"

"Yeah, of course! See you tomorrow?"

"Yep." She tucks the note into her pocket, "Lissa, let's go!"

Melissa tucks the book back into the shelf, before skipping over to us, slipping her hand into Quinn's. They both give me a small wave goodbye.

Less than a minute after they've left the room, I hear Melissa's voice echoing in the hallway. "Wait!"

Footsteps pitter-patter along the tiles as Melissa runs back into the room and tugs at my shirt again. I kneel down with a smile, "Yeah? What's up?"

"I almost forgot. Want to hear the real secret?"

"Didn't you tell me one already?"

"That was just a test. I wanted to know if you'd tell Quinn what I said, and you didn't. You passed the test. So now I think I can tell you the real secret. The secretest secret."

Why, this little… "Tell me?"

"You ready?" She grins from ear to ear, before leaning up to me again and whispering in the softest tones, "I think Quinn likes you."


	3. Chapter 2

_Don't have much to say today..._

_leave me a review and give me a little love? 3_

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

_Quinn's POV_

"What were you whispering to Santana after class today, darling?"

"You keep asking! You've asked like… fourty-five-gatrillion times. Don't you get bored of asking?"

"You know you're supposed to tell me everything, Lissa."

"Yeah, but I would only be telling you something you already knowed, Quinn," she mimics my tone as I dry my hands on nearby towel as she dries the last plate from dinner.

"Well, I'm curious about what I know."

"You shouldn't be. You knowed!"

"Melissa Fabray. You're going to tell me now what you said!"

"I know you're faking mad at me, Quinn. I can tell by now!"

"You don't know what you've gotten yourself into," I huff, picking her up by the waist and slinging her over my shoulder, carrying her the short distance to our bedroom and dropping her off on the bed.

"Quinn's tickles don't work on me no more! I'm a big girl now!" Lissa folds her arms and pouts on the bed.

"Are you sure?" I say with a roll of my eyes and a smile.

"Yeah. Absolutely."

"You won't flinch or laugh at even a hundred tickles?"

"Not even a thousand!"

"Alright, you said it, big girl!" I tumble onto the bed myself, grabbing Lissa in my arms. She giggles at the hug, the short-lived moment of peace before I launch a full-on tickle attack.

"No! Quinnie! Stoooopppp!" She laughs and starts to push me away, reaching out every now and then in attempt to tickle me back. Lissa squirms in my hold, laughing so hard she's almost crying. "The big tickle octopus has got you now, Princess Lissa!" I growl playfully in my best evil queen voice.

"No! Princess Lissa will win!" She's growing breathless from the tickling and tossing and turning, so I slow a little bit to give her some breathing space. About twenty seconds more, I let her effectively push me away.

We both lie giggling in bed, our hair messed up and sticking out in all directions.

"Ready to tell me yet?" I breathe, "What did you tell Santana? What's the big secret?"

"Mmn…" she snuggles up next to me, placing her smaller hand on my own, "Okay."

"Yeah?"

Lissa heaves a couple of deep breathes, before breathing out her sentence in one string of words, "I told Santana you like her."

_Wait, what?_

"What do you mean "I like her," Lissa?"

"Huh, that means exactly what it sounds like."

"What makes you think that?"

"Well… Quinn, you usually don't talk to people like that. Or smile. You're usually all cold and freezing and smile-less."

A soft sigh of relief escapes my lips._ So Lissa hasn't quite caught on that far yet. _"You think so?"

"I know so," she replies with a somewhat haughty laugh.

My phone buzzes softly on my cardboard dresser. I reach over, groping blindly at the faux wooden surface for it. I look casually at the screen… a call from…

"Hello?"

_"Hey, Quinn! Can you get here?"_

"What? It's my night off tonight! I'm with Lissa."

_"I know, but we're really short handed tonight. Two of the other girls are sick. Or making out in the back, I don't know. But we need you."_

"I can't… you know tonight it's not safe for Lissa to be there… It's the auction…"

_"I know… but… look, I'll pay you triple if you come down here in half an hour."_

"Wait, but I—" the line goes dead. Triple… That will definitely help with the bills, but…

"Quinn, you gotta work?"

"I…"

"What's an auction?"

"Um… Lissa… It's…"

A brief silence.

"You're not gonna leave me alone here, right?"

"Of course not!"

"But you can't take me with you?" She pouts, scrunching up her nose in disapproval.

"I can't, darling. It's not a good idea. It'll be a rowdy night tonight." I hop off the bed as Lissa sits up, sitting cross-legged on the bed.

"What's 'rowdy'?"

"Noisy, crowded… disorganized…" I need someone to come take care of Lissa. Now. Who?

"So a kindergarten room is rowdy?"

I stop, exhaling. "Can be. Something like that." Who do I call? At such short notice? I don't like asking for favors at all.

I take my jacket, putting it on quickly, and dig my hands into the pockets. Wait. There's something there… The number. _Her_ number. Santana's…

"Quinn, who's gonna be here if you go?" Lissa sounds so small that it chips away at my heart a little.

"This is a Quinn problem not a Lissa problem. If I can't find someone, I won't go, Lissa. That means you don't worry, okay?"

Lissa knows the drill. She hugs and goes back to playing.

I smile a little, grabbing my phone off the night stand and dialing the number on the paper.

Two rings and she picks up. _"Hello? Quinn?"_

"Santana! Wait, what? How did you know…?"

_"Uh…"_

"Did you save… um…" I turn around to make sure Lissa isn't listening. She's become a mound under the blanket, probably being an explorer spelunking some dark esoteric cave, so I'll just have to hope those fluffy walls block my voice enough as I whisper, "it from before."

_"Sheesh. Sorry."_

"No, it's okay." It's not okay! "I need your help right now…"

_"Oh yeah? What's up?"_

"I have to go to work tonight. I can't take Melissa…"

_"Text me your address. You live near the kindergarten right? I'll be there in ten?"_

"Yeah… I'm sorry to be calling you out of the blue…"

_"Hey, no worries. I told you to call me if you need any help. I'll see you soon."_

"Wait... Santana?"

_"What's up, Q?"_

"Uhhh... I work all night. I mean, til morning. Is that okay?"

_"Sure, just give me a few minutes to pack some clothing."_

"And..."

_"Just tell me."_

"I share a bed with Lissa," I barely mumble, somewhat embarrassed.

_"Okay. I'm going to hang up so I can get over there."_

Well, I have to do what I have to do, right?

"Do you want to spend some extra time with Santana, Lissa?"

Lissa pops her head out from under the blanket, her eyes growing brighter. She gives me a toothy smile, nodding enthusiastically, "Yes! Seeeeee! Quinn, I told you you like herrr! Is she coming for sure?"

"Yeah, darling, she is," I offer a smile, "What did you find in there, oh great explorer?"

"Just a few dirty sock monsters," she laughs, jumping clean out of my bed, "I'm gonna get some ice cream to eat with Santana!"

"Melissa Fabray!" I call after her as she dashes out of our room, "I thought I said, no more ice cream tonight!"

"But!" she pokes her head in at the doorway again, "Santana's coming, so tonight's special, so ice cream is super okay!"

"I didn't say her coming makes tonight special."

"You knowed," she giggles, before running again with renewed excitement.

"Wait for her to get here before you eat it, okay? You're not allowed to scoop it yourself!" I shake my head softly, reaching into my drawer to get a fresh button up shirt and some skinny jeans. There's never truly a moment of peace with Melissa around, but I'm quite certain I'd wouldn't have it any other way.

Yes, to support both her and me without a college degree is tiring. Working late nights, and having to take her to work with me, especially on weekdays is not ideal.

It's been a long fight. But we've always been fine. We have our own little place now. We have our own little life. And we have each other.

But I'm afraid she'll grow up… wrong. I don't want her to be messed up. I want her to have a better life than she can have now, and I certainly hope she will not come to hate me because I couldn't provide the "better life" I want for her.

"I'm doing my best," I whisper to myself, staring into the full body mirror.

"Yeah you are," a voice whispers back, and I feel small arms wrap around me, "I love you, Quinn." "I love you more, Lissa." I bend over to kiss her on the cheek, and she kisses me back.

The doorbell rings, and Lissa runs out with a gigantic grin on her face. I follow behind, knowing full well she will not open the door without me there.

I look through the peephole, and then unlock the door.

"Hey." Santana looks a little breathless and disheveled. I wonder if she ran here.

"Hi, I'm sorry to bother you so late tonight."

"It's only six fifteen, it's not that late. Besides, it's not a bother. Can I come in?"

"Oh, right!" I blush, realizing that I've sort of just been talking to her at the door, standing there like a dork. I move aside immediately.

"Santanaaaaaaa!" Melissa has already attached herself to Santana's leg. Santana smiles, ruffling Lissa's hair.

"Is there anything I need to watch out for?"

I close the door behind her, "Bed time is at eight thirty, no arguing. Other than that, Lissa knows what she is allowed and not allowed to do. Right, big girl?"

"Yeah," Lissa nods earnestly, "right now Santana and I will have special ice cream, and then fifteen minutes after that, we'll go diving!" I'll leave Lissa to explain herself now, while I grab my wallet, keys, and phone, getting ready to head out.

"Diving?"

"Yeah. Have you been to the Bubble Ocean? "

Santana chuckles, "The one with rubber duckies?"

"Yeah! That one!"

"Did you know there's a giant turtle too?"

Lissa's eyes grow wide, "Really?"

"Here, We'll make it appear, okay? Do you know where the scissors are?"

"Yep! Left drawer under the TV. I'm not allowed to get them, though."

"I'll grab them then. Can you lend me a marker?"

"Yeah! I'll be back!" and with that, Lissa runs off.

Santana takes her bag and puts it on the nearest table, pulling out a neatly cut bottom of a Sprite bottle, and some foam sheets. She then pulls out a small sewing kit. I watch her curiously.

She's so graceful in everything she does. The way she lays everything out on the table… the way her lips curl into a smile… her lips… they're soft and kissable and… _fuck._

She seems to read my curiosity, and readily answers, "I never go babysitting empty-handed."

"I can tell," I smile.

"I'll take care of her, don't worry. I know you're in a hurry."

"I… yeah. Sorry you have to um… come here… and… you know, all the working late, it's—"

"Hey, don't worry about it, alright? I'm sure there's more love in this cozy place than there is anywhere else in the world."

I nod, offering a weak smile, and walk over quickly to Santana, giving her a quick one-armed hug for… no apparent reason, "Yeah… Thanks again! Like I said, I'll probably. be at work for quite a while… Give me a call if anything happens. Otherwise, just make yourself at home! I'll make it up to you later!"

"No, it's alright." Her smile is so warm, and yet there's something in her eyes that makes me feel a little… squirmy?

"No, c'mon, I'll feel so bad for taking away practically your entire night…"

"Take me out for coffee then, alright?"

"Okay. Sometime this week?" I sling my bag over my shoulder, and start slipping into my heels.

"Sure."

Melissa comes crashing in, marker in hand, and some glitter in her hair, "I found it! It was hiding under Mr. Teddy!"

"I've got to go, Lissa," I bend down so I can kiss her one more time before I go.

She gives me a quick hug, before kissing me again on the cheek, "Ookay. Be safe, alright? I'll be good with Santana here. I'll take care of her."

I laugh softly at Melissa's comment, patting her on her head before turning hurriedly to leave, "Have fun!"

The moment I'm out the door, it hits me.

I think… I could be wrong, but I think…

_Santana just asked me out on a date._


	4. Chapter 3

_Show me a little love, darlings! I love all of you so much for being so supportive! :)_

_A little question for you guys... feel free to answer in a review: Ever been scared of falling in love?_

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

_Santana's POV_

"Hey… are you awake..?" An unfamiliar whisper sounds in my ear and a light touch lands on my shoulder. I shift my position slightly. I want my sleep.

"Mmph, maybe," I mutter in a barely audible voice.

"Sorry I came home so late… "

"It's fine."

…

_Wait… what? Came home? _

My eyes shoot wide open, and I jerk up immediately, first almost rolling off the couch and then banging my head straight against Quinn's.

I wince as I find my balance, rubbing my forehead. Quinn has a lopsided smile on her face, and she rubs her head, too. I can only grin sheepishly at her, "Hey."

"Hey yourself," she smiles, "Sorry I woke you."

"No, no, it's fine," I stretch, hearing my back crack from my awkward sleeping position on the couch. "How was work? Are you tired?"

"A little," Quinn gets up from the position she's been kneeling in, "It's around six now… Do you want breakfast?"

"Six…?" When she said "work till morning," she actually meant work till morning. Poor thing… "I'll make breakfast. I think you should rest."

"I couldn't ask a guest to cook for Lissa and me now, could I?" She folds her arms across her chest, leaning against a nearby wall, and I suddenly realize where Melissa learnt this posture. They look almost identical.

"I insist," I smile, getting off the couch and walking towards her, "I like cooking, okay?"

She eyes me curiously, as if trying to read into my head. I stare straight back on her, and for the first time ever, noticing the tiredness in her eyes, the paleness of her face. From the very first moment I saw her, I found her beautiful. But now, I was looking beyond the surface, beyond the beauty… and I saw Quinn. The real Quinn.

"Is something wrong?"

"No," I avert my gaze, feeling my cheeks heat up a little, "Just looking at how beautiful you are." _Wow, Santana, wow. Don't even try to dive for a save, your stupid brain will only make it worse._

"Thanks?" She looks at me funny.

"So… Um… Breakfast!" I beam at her, dismissing my own comment before she can, "What do you want?"

She looks uneasy, and her folded arms drop in front of her. She plays with her fingers semi-consciously. "I… Well… eggs?"

"Boiled? Scrambled? Fried?"

"Boiled is fine. I'm running low on oil." She turns, producing a carton with half a dozen eggs from a fridge.

"Coffee?"

"Lots of it. I'll do that myself, though. What about you? Do you want coffee?"

"I'm okay." I walk past her just as her hands fall to her sides. Our fingers brush lightly against each other, and I feel a spark, something electrifying. I stop.

"Sorry, static," she explains.

I think it might be more than _just_ static… but I nod anyway.

There's not much in her kitchen, just a simple range with a sink and a fridge. There's nearly no counter space. "One or two eggs?"

"Just one for Lissa and one for me is fine. And of course, you can take however many you need for breakfast." Her voice sounds distant and I turn to find her in the bathroom, leaning into the cracked but polished mirror above the sink, taking bobby pins out of her hair.

As I fill the pot with water, I keep my eyes on her. She's so graceful, so… radiant…? She looks strangely happy.

Her place isn't anything like mine, and yet it seems to have so much more…

Compared to my walk-in closet back home, which is bigger than her entire apartment, this place feels really tiny. Despite the lack of decent furniture and… well almost every other thing, Quinn keeps this place spotless.

And I don't think I've ever seen a child happier than Melissa.

"Morning, Quinn," a small voice glides through the air, and Melissa appears at the door of the bedroom, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. She gives a small yawn, blinking a couple of times before grinning toothily at Quinn.

"Morning, mini me," Quinn turns from the sink, crouching down low onto the floor to get eye-level with Melissa as she runs into her arms for a huge hug. "Why are you up so early?"

"I missed you."

I feel a foreign sense of peace settle in me.

And then I see Quinn's perfect hazel eyes on me. _Caught. _With a tiny smile, I turn my attention back to the pot. It's overflowing with water.

A soft sigh escapes my lips as I pour out some of the water, leaving just enough for boiling eggs. I place three eggs in, turning on the heat. Every now and then I turn my head to find Quinn still on the floor, still talking to Melissa, combing her fingers through her hair.

Melissa never stopped smiling.

"So how was your night with Santana?" I hear Quinn murmur as she settles on the couch, pulling Melissa onto her knee.

"Fun," Melissa retorts simply, "I'll introduce you to Mr. Green tonight when we take a bath together again!"

"Oh? Who's Mr. Green?"

"The world's most bestest turtle!"

"Oh yeah? How awesome is he?"

"Super."

The water boils, and I switch off the stove, pulling a cover on top of the pan. "Hard-boiled or soft-boiled?"

"Medium," both Quinn and Melissa turn at the same time, uttering the same word. And then Melissa falls into a fit of giggles and Quinn has the most adorable smile on her face.

They make me sorta wish I had a little something like this back home, which is strange, because all my life I've met people who have wanted to live like… well, like me.

You know how they say that where sometimes you need to let go of the riches you've known to find the true meaning of life? Because people who know wealth are always chasing it. That, and power. There's a constant battle for success, a constant endless stream of new cars, new houses, new maids, new clothes.

In the world I grew up in, quality and quantity were everything. But here, in this little place, boiling eggs, and sleeping on couches, I'm finding a little something I never experienced as a child, teenager… or even now.

A rather big part of me wishes Papi wasn't always busy with work, stuck at the hospital, or in his office. I wish Mami had actually taken the occasional bath time with me, instead of entertaining an endless stream of businessmen's wives. Owning three large dollhouses with what must have been a trillion dolls must seem like every little girls' dream. Only I had the dream, I lived it, but I wasn't happy.

I was lonely. The only thing I wanted I never had.

I wish we actually had a family to call our own.

Lifting the pot cover, I dip a spoon into the water, taking the eggs out and placing them into a bowl of cold tap water.

Quinn and Melissa are saying something about how baby mermaids sleep for twelve hours a day, just like how children do, too.

I take the eggs out of the water in about a minute. "Breakfast is served!" I set the plate on the small wooden table in front of the couch, "I hope this makes the cut!"

Quinn offers me a smile of gratitude, "Thanks, San." I watch her as she takes one egg in her delicate fingers, placing it on the table and rolling it with her palm. Little cracks start to form. She holds the egg out on her palm to Melissa, who pokes it with a finger before deciding it's not too hot. Melissa starts to peel away at the egg as Quinn takes a second and repeats the process.

I do the same.

I've never eaten a boiled egg this way, mainly because at home, breakfast was always big and too filling. Plus, it was always set in a delicate little egg cup, with the top already broken off and a small silver spoon ready.

The more I watch Quinn, the more I realize there's something about her that mystifies me. I haven't quite grasped whether it be because of the way she interacts with Melissa… or her past… or Quinn as a person… or maybe it's just all three rolled into a huge question. We live completely different lives, and I daresay I've had a better one, and yet…

I feel like she has so much to teach me without knowing. I'm uncertain, though, about almost everything. I sit quietly, sipping the coffee that Quinn has prepared while I bite into the egg with Melissa trying to hold a staring contest at the same time.

Looking at Melissa giggling and riding piggy-back on Quinn with a towel clipped onto her pajama shirt with two clothespins, as Quinn carefully navigates her way through the little apartment, I realize there's one thing I'm certain of, though—

_Happiness is homemade._


	5. Chapter 4

_Happy (belated) birthday, my dear QuinntanaEverAfter! I love you:)_

_And thank you to alllll you darlings who so were so wonderful and reviewed :) Reviews really make my day. __So shower me with a little more love, yeah? ;)_

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

_Quinn's POV_

Her fingertips graze the back of my neck, sending shivers of delight down my spine. Her eyes are so sincere, so gentle, so loving. I think she's telling me something, but I don't quite understand her. I know her lips are moving because I'm staring at them, but no sound.

It doesn't matter.

I lean in, closing my eyes, and for a moment too brief, our lips meet. The sensation sets my entire body on fire, and suddenly every part of me is twice as aware, every nerve twice as sensitive.

If kisses could convey love, then this was it.

Her hand trails from my neck down my spine, towards the small of my back, and she pulls me in closer still. My fingers cling onto the hem of her shirt, and my other hand finds her perfect silky hair. She deepens the kiss.

And then there's a constant ringing noise in my ears. I frown, trying to drown out the noise, but it's become overbearing.

The earth shakes and trembles, and I feel like I'm being knocked out of balance.

"Quinn! Wake up!"

My eyes snap open as I gasp, before quickly closing them at the unexpected light. When I open my eyes again only seconds later, I find a bright pair of hazel eyes staring into my own. "Morning."

I offer a soft smile, feeling slightly disoriented and confused, "Morning, Lissa."

"Why are you smiling in your sleep?"

"Hmm?" I sit up on the mattress, stretching the tiredness away from my body. "I'm awake, darling."

"No, I mean when you were asleep. You slept through the first alarm, too!"

I cock my head to the side, "Wait, what?" One glance at the small clock and I know she's right. "Oh dear."

"So why were you smiling in your sleep?"

"No reason," I smile, "I only had a dream."

"A good one?" Lissa plops herself down on my lap, reaching to untangle a knot she's found in my hair.

"Yeah… I suppose you could say that," a soft blush tinges my cheek as the faint wisp of a memory breezes through my mind again.

Melissa is relentless. "So what it about? Unicorns? Fairies? Ohoh! Was Quinn a princess?" She jumps straight out of bed, holding the back of her hand to her forehead and swooning, "I'm Princess Quinn and I needs a Prince Charming to save me from the Evil Spell of Dingleberry!" She falls onto the mattress, feigning a look of being unconscious for a moment, before starting to giggle.

Funny she should be mentioning the need for a rescue from an evil spell, some evil… "Who's Dingleberry?" I ask, falling back into bed with my head beside her. Her choice of words is interesting, and I can only wonder where she got that from. I hope she doesn't go around telling people about this 'Dingleberry' person.

"Evil fairy," she retorts simply, rolling onto her stomach and then tapping my nose with her little pointer finger, "Casts spells on pretty princesses."

I laugh softly, moving my head and pretending to snap at her finger. She pulls away, giggling even harder. "So is you a princess?"

The question makes me sober up a little, and I look at Lissa, that innocent gaze, that unfaltering smile.

As a child and as a teenager, I always hid things from my parents, thinking they wouldn't understand. But now playing the role of the parent, I suddenly realize that the real hiding is done by the parent, so the child will never understand their troubles.

I remind myself again that what happened to me will never happen to Melissa. I won't allow it.

"I was a princess in the dream," I conclude, brushing a stray hair out of her face.

"Were you happy?" I will never understand how her straightforward, innocent, and absolutely random questions can always hit home for me.

"I was."

"Who was Prince Charming?"

How does she catch me off guard all the time? "Mnn?"

"Prince Charming. How did he look like?"

I pause for a moment, wondering if I should first tell Melissa that 'Prince Charming' was really 'Princess Charming,' and that she actually had a name called Santana Lopez. I decide against it. Lissa is too young to understand this.

"Are you hungry?" I try to change the subject, hoping to save myself from the question, "Do you want toast today?"

"Do we have time? It's Monday. I have kindergarten later."

"I know. Why don't you tell me what time it is," I pat her head, before sitting up again, getting ready to get out of bed.

"I no wanna."

"Just try. I'll help you, okay?"

Lissa gives me a look of uncertainty before returning her gaze to the clock, "It's… two past…" her voice grows softer as she counts the numbers in order, "one, two, three, four, five, six… seven! Two past seven!"

"Good job! You're getting so much better at this, Lissa. But there's one little problem. Do you think we can fix it?"

"Yes!" she shouts with a gigantic smile on her face. She's almost bouncing on the mattress. "What is it?"

"Remember what I said about the longer arm?"

She scrunches up her nose in the most adorable way ever, "Oh, oh! The number it points to has to be multiplied by five!"

"Yes! Do you think you can do that, Lissa?"

"Can I count my fingers?"

"Why not," I smile as she holds her hands out in front of her, counting them softly…

"Ten past seven!"

"That's my brilliant girl. You're so smart," I smile, getting out of bed for real this time and then swooping down low and lifting her from under her armpits, raising her high into the air. Melissa squeals in excitement as I bring her down for a tight hug. She kisses my cheek just before I set her down.

"Do you want to go pick a dress for me to wear today?"

She's off before she even answers, digging through the cardboard box in the corner marked "Quinn's".

I exit our bedroom, heading for the kitchen. I plug in the old stained toaster, and drop two slices of bread into the slots. I press on the lever, and the metal inside the toaster starts to turn orange. I watch in silence as the bread heats up.

Did I really just dream of… of Santana? Kissing me? Holding me? Really?

Oh… wait… I kissed _her_, I remember, shifting from foot to foot as I deal with my mortification.

I don't want to believe that myself. What is it supposed to mean when I dream of someone like that. Surely, it was a mere accident. I've just been seeing her everyday when I take Lissa to kindergarten and when I pick her up. And she's so kind. It simply has to be just so. Everything is but a sheer mistake of the new emotions she gives me.

Two small hands wrap around my leg, making me jump slightly. "So who's Prince Charming?"

"What, I—" I thought she dropped the topic already… "I don't know."

"You know," Melissa retorts simply as the toast pops out. I reach for a plastic plate, putting the slices on it as quickly as possible so I don't burn my fingers. "Princesses don't lie," she tells me.

I sigh softly, taking one of her hands and leading her over to our couch. We stop at the fridge on our way and open it so she can take the jam, "I don't remember."

She squints at me as we sit down, moving in closer and closer, staring straight into my eyes like she's trying to read my soul, "Really?"

As much as I want to look away, I know I can't. "Really."

She stares at me for a few seconds more before deciding that warm toast is more important than figuring out who my Prince(ss) Charming is, and she takes the blunt plastic knife I have on the plate, and begins to spread the jam.

Why is my heart beating so wildly at her questioning? I can only try to ignore it.

The morning passes by rather quickly, and Melissa leads me out the door, shooting straight past everything that's on the streets, stopping only at the crosswalks. I let her pull me along towards school, thankful that she's actually someone who loves school, and excited about it. I'm happy for her.

I know who'll be there to greet me, but I'm not sure if I'm too happy about that… Santana is always looking at me with the same nonjudgemental smile, but I find myself unable to read what exactly she thinks about Melissa or me. At the very least I would say she likes Melissa, but what about me? She must think I'm unfit as a mother, to work all night as I do…

Lissa yanks on my hand, making me bend down so she can give me a kiss and skip off. I'm about to call after her, but that's when I realize we're already at the kindergarten.

"Good morning, Quinn." Santana's voice is so sweet and silky, and it makes me smile. It's not a big smile. I seldom smile around… strangers, but something about her makes me smile.

"Good morning, Santana." I say simply, trying to hide any emotion on my behalf. Emotions don't take you anywhere, I've come to learn to stop trusting them. I realize I'm fidgeting with my fingers and still them immediately, hoping Santana doesn't notice.

"How was your sleep?"

As if she had read every single thought of my mind, Santana catches me by surprise. I start to blush, and I try my best to make it go away… but looking into her eyes was a huge mistake.

"Good enough," I manage to answer, hoping she won't notice the blush. If she does, she doesn't show it.

"Quinn!" Lissa comes running back to me, and for a moment I panic. But she hugs me quickly and then Santana, before saying a little too loudly, "Quinn dreamed about a Prince Charming last night!" before then bounding off again.

Santana's eyes meet mine as she straightens herself from the hug. There's a slight alteration in her eyes but I can't quite pinpoint out what it is. "Prince Charming, huh?"

I nod once before I quickly shake my head, "Not quite."

She raises an eyebrow at me, just as the bell rings inside. She has to go. I should, too.

Just before I turn awkwardly on my heels, she catches my arm in her hand, "Hey! Coffee date today. Don't forget." And then she offers me the most beautiful smile ever. It's gentle and sweet.

I think she's telling me something, but I don't quite understand her.


	6. Chapter 5

_Just curious... Do any of my readers here play League of Legends?_

_Special thanks to QuinntanaEverAfter for helping me pull through this chapter :)_

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><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

_Santana's POV_

"Hey! Been waiting long?"

I lift my eyes from my phone as she sits down, "Hey! Not really. I just got here." A total lie, really. I've been sitting here for half an hour. Quinn's not late, I'm just early. Like… super nervously early.

Her eyes are encircled in ashen rings. She's tired, but she is nonetheless beautiful. Her hair isn't bright or shiny, but it frames her face just perfectly, cascading onto her shoulders. Her lips are a light pink, a sweet color that seems to scream softness. And if that singular thread of control in me named 'inhibitions' decides to snap…

"Um, is everything okay?"

Shit, I'm staring. "Y-yea, of course. Coffee on me?"

"But I thought you said I'm treating you because of that night?" Her voice is a little coarse and worn out. It's around five right now, so my guess is that Quinn only sleeps while Lissa's at my class on the nights she works.

"Nah… I changed my mind." What kind of person would I be to make someone like Quinn pay for my coffee?

"Sure? Next time it's on me, though." She cocks her head to the side still eyeing me a little warily. I can tell by the way she packs such simple yet tasty lunches for Melissa every day, rather than take advantage of the free meals at school, that she isn't one to accept charity. So all I can do is nod and promise we can take turns. "Could you get me a small latte?"

"Of course," I stand up almost robotically, walking over to the coffee counter to order. I look back at Quinn for a moment, seeing her take her phone out and dial a number.

Right, where's Melissa? Why does Melissa call Quinn by her first name, instead of "Mommy" like the rest of the class? I take a step towards the counter, and make my order. As I move aside to wait for the coffee, I sigh softly to myself.

The very first time I saw Quinn with Melissa, I realized she had no ring on her finger. I figured perhaps she's the type of girl who doesn't really like to wear things like that in public, but that was rare. I pictured her to be the perfect little wife at home, a dream come true for any man. She's beautiful, she's smart… what more can a man ask for?

Melissa has to be her child, right? They look so alike, with such similar expressions and gestures. I thought for a bit that maybe Melissa could be her niece, that she was just taking care of her on the first day of school. But they live together. And no man lives in the house with them.

Is Melissa a mistake from her youth…?

Quinn really doesn't seem like that type of girl.

But it only takes one time to make a baby.

Then again, she works all night in tight clothing that's so much different than the cute, conservative dresses she wears the rest of the time.

"Excuse me, Miss, your order?" I snap out of my thoughts, taking both our coffees off the counter. "Thanks."

The walk back to Quinn is a little too short. I'm not done sorting out my thoughts. "Here." I set the coffee down, smiling at her.

"Is everything okay?"

"Huh?"

"You were frowning as you walked over… Is something the matter?" She looks so earnest and so worried…

"No, no, nothing at all," my eyes do a routine check on her hand. Still no ring.

I shouldn't care.

"So… Um…" Don't you love how conversations always die whenever you're with someone you _really_ want a conversation with?

"Hey, I want to thank you for the other night."

"No need to," I look at her, finding her hands wrapped around the cup, "So… want to tell me more about yourself?"

"There's not much to tell," I hear her murmur, "I'm about as ordinary as can be."

"No, you're rather interesting," I smile at her, "Tell me more about you."

She pauses, looking straight into my eyes, before quickly diverting her gaze. "There really isn't much."

"Well, How's work?"

"What work?" she mumbles, rather defensively.

"You know... your job? The one you went to the other night?" Am I walking on thin ice?

"Oh. That. What about it?"

"I guess we could start with what you do."

Quinn studies her coffee cup, going silent. After a long pause, she finally mumbles just loud enough for me to hear, "I'm a bartender."

Yep, thin ice for sure. "You chose a job that allows you to spend more time with Melissa while she's awake. I really, really admire that. Most of the kids go to aftercare because their parents' day jobs run late."

I catch a flash of shock cross Quinn's face before an emotionless mask drops into place. Something in her tells me she's not used to the way I'm talking to her or treating her… Maybe that's what Melissa meant about Quinn liking me because she only smiles when she's around people she likes. What has Quinn been through that a simple compliment would impact her like that?

"But the hours must be tough on you."

"I'm fine."

"I really enjoyed spending extra time with Melissa. We're not supposed to have favorite students, but you can guess mine. Please call again if I can help."

"Um. Yeah... okay. I guess. If it's not a bother."

"It's my pleasure, Quinn. Anyone can see what a good mom you are to Melissa. The way you two interacted that morning made me nostalgic for something I never had. I realize that makes no sense. And... I'm rambling. But please call me. You know... if you ever want me... to help with Melissa."

"Okay," Quinn replies in a flat tone.

"Okay," I reply, mirroring her tone and demeanor. Quinn has shot down every inch of effort I've made to hold a conversation. I conclude she must be here out of a sense of duty, out of her want to make up for the night she asked me over to help. It shouldn't bother me, though, all we had was a one night stand.

My thoughts shouldn't be focused on her all day every day. She ought to be just another parent, perhaps with just a thin veil more of embarrassment shadowing us, but I certainly shouldn't be buying her coffee. Or dreaming about her smile. Or thinking about kissing her.

I look across the table. I think she can tell it's her turn to talk, so she's avoiding my gaze. Probably trying to figure out a way to end our date.

I decide to let her squirm for a few more minutes. I'm not going to let her off the hook so easily. I have to admit, she looks cute when she's uncomfortable.

"Do you like kids?" she finally asks. It's been like… what… 4 minutes and 48 seconds? Wow, so I'm counting how long I've been staring at her now.

I raise an eyebrow at her, a little more to myself than to her.

"I... I'm sorry," she stammers. This time, I see a flash of insecurity before she covers her emotions again. What is with her and covering emotions today? "That was a stupid question."

I reach out to cover her hand with mine but she flinches and pulls back. So I simply rest my hand on the table. "Kids bring out a kinder, gentler side of me. Most grown-ups think I'm just a bitch."

Quinn simply smirks. It's fleeting, like all her expressions. But I saw it, and consider it encouragement to continue our conversation. At least she's making eye contact now. Sort of.

"I earned a master's degree in literature. I didn't plan on becoming a teacher. But we had to do community service hours towards graduation, and I worked mine at an after-school program for under-privileged kids. You know, there's just something about seeing a child's eyes light up when they realize they understand a new concept, and that hooked me. I originally thought about becoming a professor, but I got my teaching cert instead."

"Where did you go to school?"

"You don't want to know."

"Ivy League, huh?" She looks at me with a slightly… I can't read her eyes.

"Are you flirting with me, Quinn Fabray?"

She immediately looks down at her phone, and I think I've blown it. Then I notice her cheeks are turning pink behind her coffee cup. She takes a moment to sip after checking the time on her phone.

"Should I tell you more about me then?" I suggest.

"Yeah, sure."

For a moment I think about what to tell her. There's so much about me and I don't know where to start.

"What if I tell you about a childhood memory?"

I tell Quinn about being a bully to playground bullies. I mean, I was always sorta just born to be a little bitch. She lightens up a little, relaxing as I tell the embellished story of my glorified youth as a badass. What can I say? With a master's degree in literature, I'm pretty good at holding the attention of my audience.

—

It's been an hour since we first engaged in an actual conversation, and as much as I hate to admit… I'm running out of questions to ask, and out of things to tell her. I've been telling Quinn about how comfortable and well-adjusted Melissa is in school, giving her reasons to be proud. I've realized it's a bit like a parent-teacher conference, but it definitely is one of the nicest ones I've ever given. There's just one question other than Melissa that's been bugging me.

You see, Melissa isn't something I can just randomly ask about. 'Is she your's?' is not a suitable question… definitely not for a date.

Is this a date, actually? I don't even know anymore.

"I want to ask you something… but you don't have to answer if you're not comfortable."

She flinches at my words, but nods, "Yeah, okay."

"Hey, don't worry. I won't tell anyone. I just want to get to know you better."

Quinn looks at me with a sort of wild look, something like what they'd call the deer-in-the-headlights look. There's anxiousness at the back of her eyes, and yet they're clouded by something else also. Something nicer, sweeter.

She nods.

"Where do you work..?"

"I…" she sighs, and purses her lips tight.

I need a quick save, "Hey, if you don't want to talk about it, we can talk about something else. Mnn.. How about… tell me your favorite movie?"

"I work at… Scarlette's." I'm pretty sure that isn't a movie title. In fact, I've been to Scarlette's plenty of times. Just not recently.

"I know the place." What else can I say? That it's a place that matches Quinn's sweet, wholesome (albeit occasionally bitchy) disposition? Certainly not. It's really more of a nightmare.

A silence. She sips her coffee, and then sets it down, staring into it.

"Hey, actually, I have a question for you," she murmurs suddenly and hesitantly

"Mn?"

"Do you do that often? Pick up girls at the baggage claim?"

A what?

"No..?" She's leaning into me. Her cheeks are colored. "I mean… I'd noticed you on the plane already and I just… um…" I look away, suddenly feeling flustered.

"Yeah?" She offers me a tiny smile.

"I just felt something about you, okay?"

The smile leaves her face.

_Fuck._ "Uh, I mean… like… there was just this special um… Connection I felt? And then with the luggage confusion, I felt like you were sorta a… once-in-a-lifetime shot for me… Just that somehow you and I could—" I don't make sense.

"Hey, relax." I look up and there's that smile again, just a hint whimsical.

I really should shut up. That would probably be the safest thing for me to do. I look at her, or rather, through her… refusing to meet her eye. She looks a little coldly at me.

"I… " She swallows, still trying to keep a smile on her face, despite her eyes being devoid of any real emotion, "I just wanted to thank you for the night. It was… Something special."

I'm struck dumb by her words. She looks as confused as I am, if not more. But before I can react, she stands up almost too abruptly, "I have to go. I need to pick Lissa up from my neighbour's."

"Um… O-okay."

"See you tomorrow morning."

"See you…?" I don't think she heard me as she turned her back and left.

I screwed up. She thinks I'm madly and stupidly and weirdly in love with her, that I have been from the moment I first saw her. She thinks I'm the love at the sappy first sight type. I blew it.

But then again, if I did, why did she mention that it was special?

My phone vibrates, and I look down instinctively. Oh, it's a text from her… I dread opening it. Maybe she's saying we can never be friends…

_Q:_ H_ey, thanks for the coffee. Free on Sunday afternoon?_


	7. Chapter 6

_My darlings! I'm sorry I haven't updated for two weeks! The first week I was preoccupied with activities of Chinese New Year, and then the second week I was very very sick... but I am back, and this is a slightly earlier update! Next week, the weekly Thur/Fri update will be resumed :) Hope this chapter suffices! Enjoy~_

_Give me a li'l love and drop a review for me when you're done :)_

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><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

_Santana's POV_

"Are we there yet?" comes the little voice from the backseat, "You said we were almost there two minutes ago!"

"Almost means soon, darling, not two minutes." Quinn's reply is calm, but by the way she's sort of gritting her teeth, I can tell she's starting to get a little bit frustrated.

I count thirty-four.

Another four minutes pass by in the car with only the soft music of the radio playing. "Are we there yet…" The voice comes a little smaller, a little more bored.

Thirty-five.

"Almost, darling. We're close." Quinn heaves a soft sigh, "Why don't you look out the window and tell me how many houses you see out there?"

"Where are we going anyway? You two had been keeping a secret from me. I don't like."

Just as Quinn closes her eyes to lean her head back a little, I decide that now is the time to jump in, "It's not a secret, Melissa. It's called a surprise! You know, the kind that you don't expect, and you get all excited when you see it?"

"It's taking too long."

"Well, we're going into the countryside, dear. We've been in the car for about two hours now. We should be there within fifteen minutes."

There's silence for another couple of minutes, and a glance at the rear-view mirror tells me that Melissa really is counting how many houses she sees outside.

She heaves a dramatic sigh, all of a sudden, a little like the one Quinn does. I prepare myself to count thirty-six.

"Are we there yet?"

"Close your eyes and count to one hundred. When you open them, you'll be there."

Immediately, Melissa takes a deep breath and fires out the first ten numbers all stuck waaay too close together.

"Woah, slow down there, girl!" I make a turn to the left, following a large wooden sign that says Beckworth Farms. I pull into the parking lot, shutting off the engine just as Melissa counts 99.

"We're there!" Quinn announces with a renewed energy just as "100" rolls off Melissa's tongue. Her eyes snap open, and I get out of the car, heading quickly over to Quinn's side to help her out, and then to the back door to help Melissa out. Just before I close the door, I reach in a little further, grabbing the quarter bushel baskets, which Quinn takes from me.

"Apple," Melissa reads, puffing up her cheeks with a slight frown on her face, "I don't need this. I'm healthy enough without them. No doctors for me."

Quinn's trying to stifle a small laugh. I smile to myself, scooping up a rather pouty Melissa and landing her right on my shoulders as Quinn reaches out, almost afraid Melissa will fall, "I'm not here to tell you to eat apples, silly. We're here to pick apples so we can make some apple pie at home. Quinn here says you love apple pie!"

I offer Quinn a small smile, and she smiles back. It's a rather odd, lopsided smile, but it is a real smile, nonetheless. I wonder what it's supposed to mean.

Melissa claps her hands in delight, and I suppose that frown turns into a bright grin, "Okay. Let me down then. I see apples already." She's bouncing slightly on my shoulders, leaning into me, pointing me forward.

"Not here, big girl. I'll show you where the good apples are. They're closer to the main road." I begin to make my way along the well-trodden dirt path. Quinn follows behind, almost as if she still wants to be there in case Melissa decides to lean backwards and fall. She's such a worrywart sometimes. The thought finds me fondly. She really does make a good mother. A natural even.

"Good apples? You mean the ones near here are the ones witches use to poison Snow White? Oooh, is this an enchanted forest?"

"Uh… Something like that." I don't know how children always manage to ask questions like that. They're questions you sort of should have expected, but never do.

"Santana means that these apples don't taste as good as the ones she's going to take us to, Lissa. There are no witches in this orchard, darling. And it isn't an enchanted forest either. Those are too dangerous for us."

I turn to give Quinn a sheepish grin of thanks for explaining things like that, but before I can, Melissa has already started laughing, "But I'm a princess! Princess Lissa is riding on the back of a mighty dragon!"

"Oh yeah? What color is your dragon?"

"Mmn. Red. Red and she breathes fire. She's hot."

I notice Quinn biting her lip, trying not to smile at the innocent suggestion. Does she think I'm hot? I mean, I sort of always knew but—

"Good apples!" Melissa is desperate to get off my back now, so I help her down, letting her run towards an apple tree with a low hanging branch. A couple apples hang low enough for her to reach, and she does so immediately, twisting the fruit till it easily gives way to her hands. Quinn sets the baskets on the ground nearby, taking her place near Melissa, picking off the higher branches. She beckons me with her hand to join them. I know Quinn will check the apples for holes or brown spots before she puts them in the basket. But I know Melissa won't. So I head for the basket, picking up the apples for a quick check while Melissa isn't looking.

"Does Quinn make good apple pies?" I muse out loud, to which Quinn immediately turns to me with a slightly confused look. Melissa stops picking to stare up at me.

"The best," she says simply, staring into me for a second more to see if I believe her, before she returns to picking.

"They're not that good," Quinn manages to mumble, "I don't usually put cinnamon in."

"Do you like cinnamon?" I decide to edge a little closer to the pair.

"Yes." Melissa answers for both of them, "When Quinn makes apple pie on my birthday or Christmas there's cinnamon. It's bestest then. But it's still best without."

"Mnn… If Quinn agrees, I'll bring some cinnamon over so we can get a bestest pie, alright?" I glance over at Quinn, who has her lips pursed tightly. Right. "I have some at home because I tried to make an apple pie before, and now it's about to expire."

"Was it good?"

"The pie? Nah. Not a good baker."

"I filled the first thingie!" I turn to find Melissa by Quinn's side, poking softly at her side. Quinn's flinching. Is she ticklish?

Still, she manages a smile, "It's called a quarter bushel, Lissa. Four of them makes an entire bushel, but that would be very heavy to carry."

"Quarter bushel." Melissa repeats, letting the sound roll off her tongue. "Another?"

There's a flash beside me, almost knocking me over, and suddenly Quinn's chasing after Melissa around the tree, "Only if you beat the tickle octopus!"

"Princess Lissa has a hot red dragon on my side this time!" She yells, laughing as she begins to weave through trees, never straying too far from our original tree.

"Are you sure the dragon is on your side?" I dive in from the opposite side, making Melissa skid in the dirt, darting sideways in the nick of time to escape my arms.

"You should be!" She sticks her tongue out at me.

"But I'm the hot red _tickle _dragon!"

"Oh no!" She lets out an exasperated cry, still darting to and fro. I'm getting slightly tired already. Where do kids get all this energy from?

It suddenly occurs to me that from afar, the three of us must look like the perfect family. It's almost like we're the perfect picture, only… only we're set in a broken frame. It's not real, and it's ready to slip.

"Gotcha!" I scoop Melissa in my arms, having cornered her to a tree with Quinn on the other side. "Should I hold you while tickle octopus tickles you?"

"No!" she squeals as Quinn closes in. She has the brightest smile I've ever seen, plastered over her face. I hang on to Melissa as Quinn tickles her till she's breathless, but it doesn't really register anymore. It doesn't matter.

_She's beautiful._

Only when Quinn pulls back with a satisfactory smirk do I realize Lissa's done for. I lower her to the ground as she catches her breath, and she scrunches her nose up and pouts at me, "I should be mad that my dragon left me, but… I'll forgive you for being Quinn's a-compass because she's smiling."

"Accomplice?" I look up from Melissa to Quinn. Quinn's face looks frozen, almost, but there's a slight softer edge to it. Was it the smiling thing?

"Yeah, that," she says simply, before deciding to promptly plop down right under the shade of an apple tree. She reaches out for the bottle of water that Quinn offers her.

"Water?" Quinn tosses a bottle at me. I realize it's already opened and that a few sips have already been drunk out of it. Did Quinn…?

But there was no reason to. We have enough water.

"Who's ready for another round of apple picking?" Quinn crouches down, producing a handkerchief out of seemingly nowhere, and dabs at Melissa's forehead.

"Me. But I want to pick the higher upper ones."

"The apples higher up in the tree?" Quinn tilts her head to the side, "I can't carry you for that long, Lissa, you know that."

They both turn to me with a sort of puppy-eyes. I don't know which is more convincing, Melissa's sorrowful, innocent stare, or Quinn's pleading gaze.

With a smile, I sigh in defeat, "Alright, let's get you up on my shoulders!"

—

The late afternoon sinks into a breezy evening. We're back near the farm store, the apples having been weighed out. I've just put them in the trunk of the car. Quinn's sitting on the fence near the bouncy castle, where Melissa is jumping… well, all over the place. I help myself up onto the seat beside her. She doesn't look at me.

The sky begins to streak in oranges, pinks, and purples.

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself."

"Tired?"

"A little." Quinn puts her hands beside her, and for a moment our pinkies touch. She draws back almost immediately. "Thanks for taking us out here today, Tana."

"No problem. It was fun."

"I don't want you to think that I brought us here because I could bring Lissa along so I could avoid being alone with you because that's not what I want to do, but I just—" she stops short, having breathed the entire sentence out with on breath, "I'm sorry."

"What for?" I actually take her hand in mine this time, and though she flinches, she doesn't rip it from my hold. "I already said I had fun."

"I just. I'm a mother."

"I know that," I realize that she must think I ought to perhaps stop caring or chasing after her, because she has a child. It hits me that Quinn must think that she is tainted. She isn't. She's still precious, if not to whoever left her in this state, then at least to me. "I think you're a wonderful mother."

"Really?" Her voice sounds a little quivery, a little dreamy almost, "It's hard."

"I heard," I take my eyes off her and fix them onto the bouncing mess in the distance. This entire time, Quinn's gaze hasn't left Melissa. "And I guess for the first time, I've sort of had a taste of that. It's different taking care of a kid on a day like this than taking care of sixteen at the kindergarten. I like it."

Quinn turns to look at me. There's an elegant air surrounding her, "It's tiring isn't it?"

"Very. But worth it." I turn to look at her, finding her eyes swimming with rare emotion.

She pauses for a moment, and unspoken words linger between us. "Yeah. Worth it." She's so close all of a sudden. She's only centimetres away. We're breathing the same air. Is she going to…

"What are you doing?" That little voice, those curious eyes.

Quinn almost falls off the fence, but catches herself in time."Um. Santana said there was something in her eye, so I was just gonna help her blow it out…"

I pretend to wince.

Melissa stares at us for what seems like a good second, before deciding that Quinn's right. "Okay. I'm done now, though. Tired."

"Should we head home, then?" Quinn sounds even more tired all of a sudden.

"Mnn…" Melissa yawns softly, "yeah." Quinn gets off to take Melissa by the hand, but Melissa reaches over to me with her other hand. "Walk," she commands a little cheekily.

"Walking," I tease, starting up a slow pace with Quinn. Without warning, Melissa pulls her legs up from the ground, starting to swing between us, still giggling.

The car ride home is quiet and peaceful. My heart races every time I think of Quinn being so close… just almost…

I find myself smiling in some dorky way to myself. I wonder if Quinn noticed. I glance into the rear-view mirror to find a sweet smile on the sleeping Melissa. One glance at Quinn and I find her eyes closed as well. The two hour drive seems shorter than it was when we came here.

I pull into the parking lot at near Quinn's apartment complex. They're still asleep. It must have been a tiring day. I shut down the engine again, getting out of the driver's seat with a stretch. I walk over to Quinn's side, opening her door. I should wake her, but she looks like the epitome of beauty when her face is all relaxed and peaceful like that. It's such a rare sight… I lean down, unable to help myself, and give her a kiss on the lips.


	8. Chapter 7

_LEAGUE OF LEGENDS WHY DO YOU KEEP CRASHING -DIES-_

_anyway, sweethearts, enjoy this chapter :) hopefully i can hit 100 reviews for this :D show me a li'l love!_

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><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

_Quinn's POV_

"Be good, alright, big girl? You know the drill."

"Of course, Quinn. No more than four cookies and remember to drink a cup of water. And if I see Cookie Granny slipping money into any of my pockets, I take it out and hide it somewhere in her house."

"Perfect. You're my best little darling," I lean down and kiss her forehead, discreetly fixing her pajama top where she missed a button before leading her out, and up the stairs. "I'll be there to take you to school tomorrow, alright?"

"You better not be late." Lissa gives me a small pout, letting go of my hand to cross her arms.

"Yeah, yeah," I grin, "If I'm late I pay you with apple pie, right?"

"Exactly. And you have to ask Santana for cinnamon to make my pie."

I cover my gulp with a smile. It's a good thing that I haven't ever been late yet. Apple pie is delicious, but there's no way I would want to eat humble pie.

The door opens just as Lissa takes her first step onto the floor above ours, "Hello, sweethearts!" It's the nice, warm, and welcoming voice of the grandmother I never had.

"Cookie Granny!" Melissa runs almost immediately, bouncing onto Elena with so much force I'm almost afraid Lisa'll knock her over. But she doesn't. This happens way too often for Elena to be surprised anyway. She simply laughs, her eyes bare slits, her glowing face decorated with years of age. Her silver hair is pulled back as usual, and her jolly self is wrapped in a red and white lace-edged apron. If Mrs. Claus did exist, she would be her.

"Thank you so much," I walk a little closer, offering a small but genuine smile to Elena. "I'm sorry to bother you again."

"No problem," she smiles back, looking over her shoulder at Lissa who has already run in, "It's a lot more fun with a little life around the house."

"Still. Let me know if she causes any trouble, though."

"I think she'll be the least of my troubles tonight. We'll be baking chocolate chip cookies!"

I let out a small sigh, "Really, Elena, I'll feel bad for leaving Lissa with you every time if she always comes back with a pile of cookies!"

"Nonsense. It's too much to eat alone anyway. Whiskers and Ginger don't fancy any. Margo, too. You just happen to drop Lissa off every time I want to bake cookies."

A loud laugh sounds from inside the apartment, followed by a long purr accompanied by giggles. A soft hum of "Rain Rain Go Away" soon floats through the air. How nice it is to be so lively, so carefree… so innocent.

"I should go," I manage to murmur, noticing Lissa peeking out from Elena's side. "Goodbye, darling. Be good."

"We always are!" Lissa announces with a toothy smile, "Aren't we, Cookie Granny?"

"Of course."

I watch as Elena wipes her hands on her apron, turning and moving inside. I mouth a quick "thank you" to her again, before heading back down the stairs.

I'm in the apartment for only a minute more, grabbing my bag and an umbrella before running down the steps and through the front door of the complex. It's not raining too hard yet, and I need to get to Scarlette's before it really starts to pour.

The walk there is harsher than usual. It's not the dread, or that terrible feeling sitting low in my gut for even working in a place like that. When you know that you're stuck in that situation, you learn to accept it, and then sooner or later it stops bothering you. You grow numb. But the steady pattering of the rain seems to cool the night. There's a chill in the air, not just one that blows on your skin, but one that slips into your bones.

I pull my jacket a little closer, wishing the hood was a little bigger, and that the jacket could be just a thread warmer. I can feel the final notice letter from the power company in my pocket. They're turning off our power at noon unless I fork over $500 in past charges and fines. I frown. I'm down to only $250, and I know from experience they will charge me an extra $100 to turn it back on once it gets cut. Who am I kidding… I'll never be able to pay that much by tomorrow. Not unless it starts to rain money instead of water.

How am I supposed to explain to Lissa that we won't have electricity for a while? Perhaps… perhaps Santana would call it a camping adventure. Can I even pull that off?

I can hear Scarlette's from half a block away, with its music so loud the pavement throbs. I know my head will soon be the thing throbbing from the blasts, but I walk on anyway. The rain grows heavier, the raindrops bigger. The constant splattering almost drowns out the music. Almost.

The moment I push open the door, the odour of sweaty men mixed with alcohol fills me. It doesn't last long though. It's just another thing I've gotten used to.

I walk near the wall, straight towards the staff room on the side, setting the umbrella in a red bucket set at the door. I quickly stuff everything in my locker, taking out a pair of heels, and putting my boots in their place.

A glance in the mirror to make sure that my make-up hasn't run in the rain, and I'm back out into the crowd.

"Heeeeyyy, pretty." His breath stinks of too many things, but all the same I smile at him.

"Hello, there. What can I get you?"

He muses for a moment, and it's so obvious that he's eyeing me down, "How about a couple shots of vodka? And the next button of your shirt."

I keep a soft sigh to myself, turning to pour him his drink. I'm adamant that the button stays on. I've already taken off the first one. Everyone undoes at least that one. The girls with the most tips undo the first three.

I slide the double shot across a short distance on the counter, landing it directly in front of him. This is when I see Alberto storming up to me, his face red, thick brows furrowing. Did I do something wrong? I just got here…

"Quinn!" He smells of too much cologne. He takes me by the arm into a darker area near the staff room entrance. I try to pull his hand off of me, but I know it's useless. He has a death grip if he wants to have one.

"I have an offer. I'll pay you triple."

_Triple. Even triple won't keep the power on._

"What is it?" I'm apprehensive, because whenever _triple_ comes into play, the task ahead will not be an easy decision.

"We're low on auction girls tonight. It's the weather. Those bitches don't like coming out on stormy nights. Ruins make up and hair. I need you to be in the auction."

Having worked here since Melissa and I moved to the area has made me almost impenetrable. I may cringe, I may turn away in disgust, but nothing that happens here makes my blood run cold anymore. Except this.

He must have seen the hesitance in my eyes. He's too good at reading people. His voice turns soft. "Hey, don't you have a kid at home? A pretty little girl, yeah? Just like you? How old's she now?"

I don't answer. This isn't sympathy.

"Look, I'll pay you triple what the girls normally make in the auction. I know you'll sell well, and I need you there."

_The girls normally make twenty-five percent of at least $300; Alberto's offering me seventy-five and that's nearly enough to keep the power on…_

"You'll be able to get a little something special for your kid with the money, you know that. Wouldn't that be nice? With Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas coming, wouldn't that help you out?"

He releases my arm, and I find my own hand rubbing at the place where his fingers had grasped so tightly only moments ago. "You know how it goes. It's not selling sex. You just need to get changed, get auctioned, and then go into one of the rooms and drink with them. Mild petting over your clothes; more if you arrange it privately, but I don't wanna know about it. You're not selling sex under my guidelines. Plus, it's just six hours. Then you're off shift."

_But I'm selling me._

He's still searching me for an answer, but I'm putting forth my best stoic front.

"Look, I'll even give you the full extra $50." His voice is stern, and all emotion is wiped away.

He's desperate. Desperate, but he won't take any more shit.

_I'll be able to keep the power on if this is the deal we're to make. And even have a little extra for more food._

"I'll do it." I swear that it wasn't my voice to say it, but from the softened expression in his face, I realize that it was me.

"Okay. Just grab a set of clothes from the top drawer on the left inside. Nothing that fits. Always a size smaller." Alberto pushes me roughly towards the staff room, stuffing me inside like I was just another asset. Well, I suppose in some ways I am.

I do as told, opening the top drawer and pulling out a black tight-fitting sequinned dress. It's strapless, with padding fitted into the breasts.

Looking at it with contempt, I find my feet leading me towards the small partition fold where I can change. I slip out of my shirt, jeans, and bra, and into the black thing. The dress is barely breathable.

_Do this for Melissa._

One glance in the mirror before I go out. But the one glance makes me stop and stare into the mirror. Who is that woman staring back at me, with that blonde hair, those tired eyes… and too much cleavage showing?

"Are you ready?" The door is thrown open without so much as a knock as Alberto grabs me once again by the arm and leads me out, "You're on in five. You've seen it right? Just look presentable." He pushes me towards the back entrance to the stage where a familiar brunette is already filling the platform with her presence. She's pretty, there's no denying that, but the way she dances…

"I don't have to… dance like that, right?" I look to Alberto for an answer, and he merely shrugs, "It brings in tips." The next thing I know, he's on stage.

I don't want to do more than I have to. I hug my arms around myself, trying to recover any morsel of dignity in covering myself. The music changes.

"Welcome to the Scarlette's Weekly Auction!" He booms, "First round of drinks on me!" The crowd cheers, and tonight it's ringing in my head louder than usual.

"Our first lady's over here! You guys know her right? It's Scarlette's most talented Tatiana!" I watch from behind the curtains as the brunette flirtily waves at the crowd and blows a kiss, earning a couple wolf-whistles and some cheering. "Six hours worth of time, my dear gentlemen! All for a price of 50 dollars per hour, starting at 300! Any bids?"

Immediately, the bar fills with the noise of too many men yelling, trying to be the loudest. Tatiana merely kneels on the floor, leaning forward slightly, lowering her upper body a bit forward to make her cleavage even more noticeable.

"350!"

"400!"

"425!"

"475!"

"500!"

There's a brief moment of hushed voices, followed by deafening whistles and laughter. I turn away, my back facing the stage. Wrapping my arms closer to myself, I hear my heartbeat resounding in my ears. I close my eyes, squeezing them as tightly as possible. _Melissa. Do this for Melissa. She shouldn't have to suffer with no electricity for who knows how long. She deserves cold milk, warm baths, and heat to keep her warm and the tv to watch movies together. This is my problem to fix. Melissa, Melissa, Melissa._

"550!" Someone roars. My eyes snap open as I am momentarily shocked at the unexpected sound and I jump slightly. And then I realize I'm shaking.

"550 going once! Going twice! … And. Sold! Tatiana for 550 to the gentleman in blue! That way please, Rossier o'er there will collect the bill!" I can tell from Alberto's voice that he's grinning. Auction night means big bucks, we all know that.

"Hey, bitch. Get out there." A soft hiss sounds in my ear, making me take an involuntary step forward and onto the stage. Alberto is there, offering me a benign smile. He holds his hand out to me, so I reach and take it. He's the only sense of familiarity I have in this sea of confusion now.

I'm still hugging myself with one arm.

"Quinn here… Quite the beauty, mnn? Well, if you guys come here often enough, you'll recognize her as our prettiest bartender!"

A cheer erupts from the crowd again. I'm trying my best not to cringe visibly.

"But tonight she's not serving up the drinks! She's free for the first time to enjoy them with you! Gentlemen, as a rule of thumb for a first timer, I'll be setting the starting price at 350! 50 per hour, plus 50 extra for her… companionship virginity!"

I bite my lip to stop it from quivering. The words sound so vile.

"Alright, who wants to start us off?"

"Me! 400!"

I look into the crowd, trying to search for the face of the caller, only to find my vision blurred. I know it's not the lights. There are barely any. It's so dim in here. I look up, trying to fight the tears that are threatening to spill. I can't let my make up run. Presentable. I need to look presentable.

"450!"

I don't understand how these girls survive week to week like this. Does it not hurt? To work at Scarlette's is degrading enough, but to parade yourself in front of sleazy men, and be ready to throw yourself at them? We all know what happens behind closed doors. No one is safe behind closed doors.

"550!"

Melissa's needs need to come before my own.

"600!"

It'll all be over soon.

"625!"

Six hours won't be that hard right?

"650!"

What happens if they try to do something to me? Do I push them off? Or do I let them? I tighten my hold on both myself and Alberto.

"675!"

What happens if they want more than what I am here to offer? Who's going to save me then? Who?! Not Alberto… not any of the girls here behind the curtain… Nor the men… then…

"700!"

I need to go. I need to run, out of here, out of this place, out of this life. And I need to do it now. I loosen my grip on Alberto's hand.

"700, gentlemen, 700 going once!"

But I can't. Melissa needs me. I can't just bail out on her. I'm doing this for her. For Melissa. My heart pounds so wildly I feel like it'll burst of my chest. I feel dizzy. What if I pass out now?

"700 going twice!…"

There's a growing murmur in the crowd, hands that are raised but prices that are never called.

"1000 dollars."

And the bar goes completely silent.


End file.
